


The Theft

by Zonegypsy



Series: A Running Chain [1]
Category: Shadowrun
Genre: Ancients (Shadowrun), Lone Star (Shadowrun), Magic Shadowrun Setting, Shadowrun Gangs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:15:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28132269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zonegypsy/pseuds/Zonegypsy
Summary: A night raid on a Lone Star impound, First of a series of short interconnected stories.
Series: A Running Chain [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2060943
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	The Theft

Seattle September 13, 2076  
Lone Star Impound- Tacoma Puyallup border 

The Ancient jumped the chain fence, landing heavily on the other side. Thick fog was rolling in, he could see his breath in the chilled air. His partner rolled up next to him, having cleared the fence without so much as a sound. Pathfinder didn’t need to see the smugness on her face; he could feel it coming off of her. He shot his teammate an ugly look as they crept deeper into the impound. 

He knew that they didn’t have much time, 20 maybe 30 seconds to be in position. Pathfinder pushed his back to the side of a Ford Americar and waited. Each second felt like an eternity. Until faint beams of light began to emerge from the mist; the patrol was right on time. The Lonestar patrol was made of two men; a short, stocky man and a tall lanky officer. He centered himself as the two officers blundered their way in the mist; the world blurred as his astral sight became overlaid with the physical. The temporary disorientation passed as he sized up his target.

The short officer was a human, emotions of boredom and contempt swirled around him. The holes in the man’s aura told him that the human had the standard kit of the average rent-a-cop. The officer’s aura also held a spark to it; Pathfinder would make sure that spark never awakened. His vision shifted back as the patrol drew closer.

Pathfinder lunged forward as the officers reached the Americar. He chanted as he gathered mana, shaping the spell. The arcane tattoo on his left arm glowed as it was infused with power. His target was reaching for a sidearm. The cop’s gun never got the chance to clear its holster, gray energy arched from Path’s hands into the officer. The human dropped; his skin, gray and withered.

Path took a step back, a wave of dizziness replaced the sudden surge of adrenaline. He poured more magic into that spell than he normally would, but he had to be sure. He brought a hand up to his head and refocused himself. Once the vertigo passed, he turned toward his partner. A faint coppery scent hung in the air as fresh blood gleamed in the dim light. She retracted her spurs back into her forearm still looming over her target. Blood pooled around the body of the other officer.

“Do you always have to be so dramatic, Pathfinder?”

“Just when I have an audience,” he cracked back, the other Ancient’s eye roll was almost audible.

“Someday, your attitude will get you geeked,” she said, then paused. “The others should be done by now.”

Pathfinder kicked one corpse as they left the lot and headed towards the garage. Three more officers lay sprawled out on the ground outside the building. He didn’t need his second sight to tell him the cops were still alive. He began to speak words of power as his tattoo was filled with magic. He approached the down officers. A hand grabbed his shoulder, and he glanced back to see one of the older Ancients. The veteran shook his head and Pathfinder stood down, allowing the mana to settle.

The impound was theirs; all that was left was to collect their spoils. Pathfinder entered the building and a catalog popped up in his PANs AR display. He took a few moments to browse through the log until something caught his eye. A 2076 Suzuki Mirage, matte black. He gave a glance over his shoulder and then pinged the Mirage’s location. The bike was tucked away in a small corner of the impound.

He grabbed the keys, and with a flashlight in hand took off into the lot. The drain from that overcasted slay spell was all but forgotten when he arrived. The bike was covered by an acid-washed tarp, he ripped away the covering to reveal his prize. He ran his hand over the smooth metal, even with the dim glow of the flashlight he could make out the finer details of chrome trim. Pathfinder mounted the bike getting a feel for the balance before turning the engine on. The bike roared to life as the display lit up. The Ancient smiled, the Mirage was his, and he looked forward to putting her through her paces.


End file.
